She Will Be Loved
by SoarSparks
Summary: After all the ups and downs of last year, Amelia and Owen have convinced themselves that they're just friends. Nothing more. But it seems that there's someone else interested in attracting Amelia's attention; attention that Owen finds hard to accept. And it might not be what anyone expected… Set roughly around 12x01.
1. Chapter 1

'Owen, I'm fine,' Amelia insisted, trying to wriggle her wrist free of the surgeon's iron grasp as he dragged her into the nearest available trauma room.

'Honestly, I should be in there – they're going to need a neuro consult and I don't have the time to just –'

'Sit down Amelia,' Owen interrupted, pushing her towards the bed with one hand while grabbing an array of surgical tools with the other, 'You know I'm not clearing you for surgery until you've been checked out.'

'But – '

' _Now_ Dr Shepherd.'

Amelia sighed. There was no talking Owen out of this. It was just her luck. Just her luck that in attempting to examine the head lac of a schizophrenic patient, he had managed to get his hands on a scalpel, convinced that Amelia was in the process of implanting some kind of alien device into his skull.

She peeked over Owen's shoulder - could she maybe try and make a dart for the door? Hm. Maybe not. From the look in his eyes, she was fairly sure Owen would tackle her to the ground before she'd managed to move even a few paces.

She perched on the edge of the bed, folded her arms, and sighed again. Owen let out a soft chuckle.

'You do realise you're pouting?'

'Well, maybe if _someone_ would let me do my job and actually practice medicine around here then I wouldn't be.' But even so, she felt a smile playing round the corners of her mouth. It was damn hard staying mad at Owen Hunt.

'Right,' with a snap of surgical gloves he was standing in front of her, 'You feeling nauseous?'

'Nope,' she quipped. Owen bent forwards, frowning, and rested his fingertips against her temple.

'What about dizziness?' His breath fanned over her face as he spoke.

'N…nope,' she replied, her voice trembling a little. She could feel the beginnings of a flush creeping up her neck. It was so hard to concentrate with his face just inches from hers, so hard to look away from those cloudless blue eyes.

'Dazed?' Owen asked softly as he titled her head to get a closer look at the gash on her right cheekbone.

 _Keep breathing you idiot, what the hell's wrong with you?_

She made a faint mumbling noise, hoping that it came across as a nonchalant dismissal. She didn't trust the steadiness of her voice right about now.

Determinedly, she kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling above. He was so close that she could smell him, smell _all_ of him. The coconut of his shampoo, the freshness of his lab coat, that unexplainable outdoor smell from his walk into work. And underneath all of that, _his_ smell. Like a log fire on a bitter afternoon. A smell you wanted to come home to.

 _Just friends, just friends, just friends…_

She suddenly realised he was looking at her.

'I'm not hurting you am I?' He asked, his eyes searching hers.

'No, no,' she shook her head, both for emphasis and to clear her own jumbled thoughts, and pulled away, 'So I'm good?'

'I guess,' he replied, smiling reluctantly. 'But if you feel like something is wrong, or you start feeling worse, you say something, okay Amelia?'

'You worry too much Dr. Hunt,' she retorted, shrugging on her lab coat and grinning as she walked backwards out the door.

'You don't worry enough Dr. Shepherd!'

Her laugh echoed down the hall, 'I'm a busy woman - I've got a brain to pull apart!'

Owen watched her disappear around the corner. He knew they were just friends now, nothing more. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about anything else. But there was definitely something about that girl.

 _He was watching her. A flash of headlights as the car was locked. A metallic melody as keys were pulled out from her bag. A gentle humming as she continued from where the radio had left off. Her hair fell in gentle curls to her shoulders. He liked the way it looked. A deep mahogany. She had reached the porch of the house now. A second later, and she had vanished inside. He walked over to her car. To an onlooker, it would seem innocent – just a stranger admiring its design. He inhaled deeply. A moment passed, and he was off, walking casually down the road, arms swinging, whistling. It had been a good day._


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

'Aaaand the aneurysm's clipped, and we're good to go.'

'Nice work Dr. Shepherd,' Ellen, her quietest, yet most diligent scrub nurse looked across at her, the crinkling of her eyes revealing the smile behind the mask.

'Nice work _everyone_ ,' Amelia replied, trying to roll out the kink in her neck, 'Edwards, you're good to close up, right?'

The resident was already in place, 'I got it Dr. Shepherd.'

Amelia nodded, and a moment later was scrubbing out, letting the weight of the last 4 hours roll off her shoulders. She always felt a bit shaky after a surgery, coming off that adrenaline high.

'Impressive.' A male voice behind her made her jump.

'Owen,' she laughed, reaching for a paper towel, 'You trying to give a girl a heart attack?'

'Hm, well,' he moved to lean against the sink, 'even if I did I'm sure Pierce would fix you up pretty quick.'

She narrowed her eyes, and he grinned, eyes twinkling. She could totally see him as a little boy, 3 feet smaller, hair longer, getting up to all kinds of tricks.

He spun round and started scrubbing, 'I'm actually resecting a bowel with Bailey. We were just waiting till you were done. How's your day?'

His colleague sighed, 'You know, I feel bad saying it, but three back to back aneurysms have kinda got me hoping for a nice acute subdural hematoma…oo, or a glioblastoma…'

Owen paused in his scrubbing.

'Let me get this straight. You're hoping for someone to be so sick, so eaten up by this cancer growing inside of them, just because you want to get your hands on a brain tumour?'

Amelia gave him a sheepish look, 'Well, when you put it like that…'

Owen laughed, 'To be fair, the pit's pretty empty. It would be nice to have some mass trauma rolling in –'

He broke off as a little fist came out of nowhere and pounded him across the shoulder.

'Hey!' He yelped, 'How is that any worse from what you just said?!'

'You've totally cursed it now!'

'What?' Owen rubbed at his arm, a bemused look on his face.

'The minute _anyone_ says that the pit is empty, even just _hints_ at it, next thing you know there's blood up the walls and gurneys flying all over the place.'

'Oh c'mon, that's so not a thing.'

Owen's pager let out a self-righteous bleep.

Amelia cocked her head to one side and narrowed those vibrant eyes, 'Sorry, what is it you were saying?'

'…I hate it when you're right.' Owen grumbled.

'You love it,' Amelia quipped, flashing a smile.

 _If only she knew how much he loved it. If only he could find a way to tell her. That smug look that descended, coupled with the excited flush of her cheeks. The way she wrinkled her nose momentarily, as if to announce her victory. And those eyes. They took on a different hue when her emotions were running high, and it was a piercing blue that now flashed triumphantly. But how was he supposed to say any of this if they were just supposed to be friends?_

Before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself blurting, 'Come with me to Joe's later.'

Amelia's scrubbing became noticeably slower as she refused to meet Owen's gaze.

'You…you mean just us two?'

'Uhm, yeah…I mean, well, no, there's a group going…I…I think, uhm, not sure how many, but, you know…a friends thing.'

 _Nice work Owen, you couldn't have sounded any more casual._

'Oh,' he watched her petite frame relax as her scrubbing returned to normal. Owen was surprised how much that simple act could hurt; another painful reminder of how she wasn't interested in their relationship being anything other than what it was.

She looked over at him, smiling, and he tried to rearrange his face into something that resembled nonchalance.

'Yeah sure, I'm up for that. I could do with a good group night out. Oh, and you _have_ to remind me, I have the weirdest thing to tell you about something that happened this morning - you're so gonna love it!'

His curiosity aroused, Owen began to speak, only for both surgeons to be startled by a very impatient-looking Bailey banging on the window separating the two rooms.

'Dr. Hunt. You gonna stand around there chatting all day, or are you actually planning on coming in here and helping me save this woman's life?'

Amelia cleared her throat, 'I think you've been summoned Dr. Hunt. No way am I getting between you and Miranda Bailey.'


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Joe's was buzzing. Well, buzzing with all the staff of Grey Sloan.

Amelia sat with her lemon water, absentmindedly swirling it with a straw, as she observed the people around her. Jacob from radiology was trying it on with Edwards again. Wilson was destroying Karev at a game of darts. Callie was chatting away about something beside her, but she let the words wash over her head. It was enough for her to just sit and take in the tangle of voices and laughs. Waiting for Owen.

Her daydream was abruptly broken, however, when she became aware of Callie incessantly nudging her arm.

'Hm?' she remarked. She glanced over her friend's shoulder, hoping Owen had finally arrived.

'No, _there_ ,' Callie whispered excitedly, jerking her head to Amelia's right, 'That guy has totally been checking you out for the last twenty minutes.'

'Callie – '

'No, _seriously_ , you're going to want to look.'

Sighing, Amelia ducked her head, letting her hair fall over her face, and subtly scanned the side of the room. Sure enough, in her peripheral vision, she could make out a tall, dark-haired guy looking her way. He was resting casually against the bar, his position elegantly pronouncing the leanness of his frame. His long fingers rapped nonchalantly against his tumbler, causing the muscles of his forearm to flex. All in all, not-bad looking. If you liked that kind of thing.

She suddenly caught his eye, and he flashed her a smile.

'Oh you are so in,' Callie giggled.

' _Callie_ – '

But before she could finish her sentence, the orthopedic surgeon had slid off her stool, mojito in hand.

'Soooo I think I might just go and see if Karev needs any help with that game of darts. You just sit right there.'

Amelia tried to protest, but her words simply fell on deaf ears. Callie was already bellowing out Karev's name while stomping unsteadily towards the darts board. _Great_.

'Well. Your friend might just be the wing-woman I never knew I had.' A soft voice came from behind her.

Amelia turned slowly, and there he was. All cheekbones and stubble and grey-green eyes.

'You're needing a wing-woman?' she asked innocently, cocking her head to one side.

'Yeah. You see,' tumbler guy continued, resting his arm – his very muscular arm - against the table behind Amelia, 'there's this girl who I've been eyeing up all night, and I was trying to find some way of getting her on her own so I could buy her a drink.'

Amelia laughed. It wasn't a bad line, she'd give him that. And he was cute too. So why was it that Owen's face kept popping up in her mind?

'I…' she sighed, biting her lip, 'I'm actually waiting for someone.'

She watched a flicker of disappointment cloud his eyes, only to be replaced by a brazen smile.

'Well. That _is_ a shame. But I guess you can't blame a guy for trying. I see a beautiful girl, and I've got to take my chances, you know?'

Not knowing quite how to respond, Amelia kept quiet, trying to ignore the flush working its way up her neck. She hoped it was dim enough for the stranger not to notice.

'It was nice meeting you…?'

'Amelia. Amelia Shepherd.'

'Amelia,' he tested the name softly, his voice playing with the breathlessness of the vowels, 'I like it. Different. Like you.'

He winked playfully, before holding out his hand, 'I'm Stephen.'

Placing her palm in his, she shook it firmly, trying not to get distracted by the steady warmth of his skin.

'Nice to meet you Stephen,' she smiled.

'It _was_ nice,' he nodded, walking slowly backwards, only to suddenly stop and dart forwards again.

'One more thing,' he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing against her cheekbone, 'Maybe this someone isn't the someone that you really need. Just something to think about.'

Before she could even process what had happened, he had disappeared out the back door.

'Am I interrupting something?' An awkward chuckle came from behind her.

Amelia spun round, flustered.

'Owen! That was just…I mean, he needed…' She couldn't for the life of her think of what to say.

'You're late.' She decided to keep it simple.

'I know, I'm sorry,' Owen replied, settling himself on the stool opposite her, 'there was a complication with the resection. The woman had a cyst on her pancreas, so we had to go ahead and remove a large portion of it.'

'Ouch. Diabetic for life,' Amelia winced.

'Yeah,' Owen sighed, frowning unhappily. She could see him starting to retreat into himself, shutting himself away. That was her tactic too, her tactic when she was hurting.

'Come on,' she thumped the table emphatically, 'I'm buying you a beer.'

He looked up at her and smiled that smile. _Her_ smile.

'If you insist.'

A moment later, and both of them were clutching fresh drinks.

'Now,' Owen remarked, gesturing with his glass towards the back door, 'I might not be able to get anything out of you about what all _that_ was, but I seem to recall you had something you wanted to tell me? You've left me hanging all day Shepherd.'

'Oh god, yes,' Amelia laughed, 'I'd totally forgotten!'

She began to rummage around in her handbag, aware of Owen's curious eyes following her movements.

'What – '

'Dr. Hunt!' A hand clapped him across the shoulder as Avery suddenly appeared at the table, Kepner and Robbins in tow, 'You finally made it.'

'Have you ever known me to turn down a night at Joe's Avery?' Owen replied, chuckling.

'Not with all these hot women about,' Robbins remarked, throwing him a wink.

'Arizona!' Kepner admonished, but even she couldn't help grinning.

'Well said Robbins,' Jackson declared, dodging a well-aimed slap from his wife, 'Next round is on me!'

The three surgeons headed towards the bar, laughing, April rolling her eyes in exasperation. Owen pondered how nice it was to see everyone letting themselves go; having a bit of fun. As a doctor at Grey Sloan, he himself knew how hard it could be to find time for that in between the onslaught of traumas.

'Here we go!' Amelia suddenly exclaimed, dragging him back to the present.

Whatever Owen had been expecting, the red flower that she placed on the table had definitely not been in the running. There was a moment's pause, Amelia watching him expectantly, before Owen leaned forward and whispered, 'I don't think I get it.'

Eyes twinkling, she reached for the flower and began twirling it by the stem, 'It's a begonia. I found it on my car this morning.'

'On your car?'

'Yup. Just casually tucked under the wiper.'

Those deep blue eyes – _they were a real indigo tonight_ \- looked up at him questioningly, 'What do you think it means?'

'Uhm. That someone really likes your Mercedes?'

He yelped as a boot jabbed him in the shin.

'Amelia, _please_ , you have really got to stop with the physical abuse,' Owen groaned, 'I didn't have four siblings to fight with – I'm not used to this onslaught.'

She made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh, before shaking the flower emphatically, 'I'm serious Owen! Do you think someone put it there on purpose? Do you think someone's trying to tell me something?'

He leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. Amelia waited, eyebrows raised expectantly.

'I think…' he inhaled, 'you could be overthinking this.'

'You're hopeless!' Amelia wailed, reaching out to pound his arm before she'd even thought about it.

But this time Owen was quicker. He easily deflected her lunge with his palm so that after a brief scrap, he was clutching her wrist. Amelia stilled, unsure of what to do. Their fingers were tangled together, and his thumb was pressed against the inside of her wrist. It shouldn't mean anything - she had done that exact move countless times with her own patients. Hell, it was one of the first things you learned when you became a doctor. But there was something exhilarating about having Owen's fingers so near _her_ pulse _._

 _I should say something. Now would be a really good time to say something..._

But all Amelia could think about was what if she messed up what they already had? She had damaged so many people in her life; had been left by so many others. Her baby. Her boyfriend. Her brother. She didn't think she could bear it if Owen was added to that list.

'Amelia –'

There was a sudden interruption as both her and Owen's pagers went off simultaneously. Throughout the rest of the room, she heard a wave of similar beepings, coupled with some groans and sighs.

Avoiding Owen's eyes, she untangled her fingers from his and picked up her pager. The words MASCAL blinked repeatedly back at her.

'What's going –' But Amelia didn't have time to finish her sentence. She didn't need to. Over the bar's mellow music, she could already hear it – the army of sirens, the screech of tyres.

The two surgeons looked at each other.

Grabbing her coat and throwing Owen his wallet, they made for the door.

 _Hope you guys are enjoying all the Omelia so far! Can't tell you how fun its been to write ;) This is my first go at fanfic, so I'd really love it if any of you would drop me a review to let me know what you're feeling. Stay tuned as the drama unfolds... xx_

 _P.S. I know I made April and Jackson all loved up here, which is kind of far off from where they are at the mo, but I just fancied some Japril loving ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

'Talk to me Nicole,' Owen demanded, chasing the team of paramedics wheeling gurneys into the pit. He grabbed a gown from the pile to his left, the bright yellow an awkward splash of cheeriness amongst the panic and terror. As odd as it sounded, these moments were what a trauma surgeon thrived off – the speed, the split-second decision-making, the rush. He knew he didn't need to turn around to check for his team; he could feel them hot on his heels.

'A shooter opened fire on a local elementary school. We've got multiple GSWs, multiple bradycardias, complete chaos. Estimate of around 20 casualties, but this is only the first wave.'

The helpless screams of children hit the doctors as they entered the pit. Even after all his time over in the Middle East, surrounded by torture and warfare and bombings, that sound – the absolute agony of it - was something that Owen had never heard before.

'They're…they're not even teenagers yet…' Kepner stumbled, watching a paramedic desperately pressing the spouting chest wound of a young boy, simultaneously trying to prevent him from choking on the blood bubbling at his lips. A teddy bear lay abandoned on the floor, its fur dark and matted; the scars of the trauma.

Owen could see them faltering before his very eyes. Arizona's fingers had found Callie's hand; her grip so tight that her knuckles had taken on a colourless hue. Alex's jaw was clenched, his face clouded, as he followed the dart of yet another gurney carrying a seizing girl. Her hair, white blond beneath the rust of the blood, was plaited neatly, lovingly. She couldn't have been more than 8.

'Okay people,' Owen announced. It was going to take everything he had for him to be chief right now, but a chief was what his doctors needed.

'This is going to be raw. This is going to be painful. But you do what you do best, and you go and save lives. Clear?'

A moment's pause as nerves were steeled and hearts hardened. His surgeons scattered.

'I want some more beds in here!' Owen called out, directing yet another gurney with yet another child, 'And someone go and open up the clinic – we're going to need all the space we can get.'

It was just after he had defibrillated and revived a 6 year old while her twin flatlinined in the next bed that Owen suddenly realised he had lost Amelia. In fact, he hadn't actually seen her since they'd been together at Joe's. Hadn't had time to check if she was okay.

He handed the paddles back to a nurse, his eyes scanning the faces of the surrounding medical staff. Karev and Robbins were sprinting out of a trauma room with a gurney. Pierce was darting from one bed to the other, ultrasound in hand. Kepner's piping voice resonated from somewhere behind him. No Amelia.

'Edwards!' he called, as the resident rushed past with numerous bundles of gauze, 'have you seen Dr. Shepherd?'

Edwards jerked her head in the direction of the entrance, and sure enough, Owen allowed himself a breath as he spotted those dark brunette curls. She was bent over an unconscious girl, blood tracing its way down the child's face from a gash to the head. A boy of about 9 or 10 was standing next to Amelia, his hands gripping the rail of the bed. He appeared to be talking rapidly to the neurosurgeon. Owen moved towards them.

The next part happened quickly. A blink of the eye and you would have missed it. One moment the boy was upright, the next his eyes had rolled into the back of his head, and he was falling forwards, his limbs limp, his head sagging. Owen dashed forwards, but he wasn't fast enough. The child hit Amelia heavily as he fell, knocking her off balance, before crumpling to the hospital floor.

'Hey, you okay?' he demanded, his hand unconsciously reaching for her as his eyes carefully checked her over.

'I'm fine, I'm fine,' Amelia pushed past Owen, 'but he's not.'

She was trying to get to the boy.

'I don't understand,' she muttered, pulling his eyelids back to shine a light into his pupils, 'He was fine. A minute ago, he was fine, talking to me, telling me what had happened. I –'

She stopped mid-sentence.

'Amelia?' Owen asked, anxiously searching her face.

It was only when she pulled her hand out from behind the boy's head that he saw the blood.

'He…he's been shot,' Amelia whispered, 'Shot at the base of the skull and no one knew…I didn't…'

Her expression suddenly cleared.

'Edwards! I need an OR room _stat._ By the time I've stepped off the elevator, I want a team in there ready for an emergency intracerebral bullet removal. And for god's sake, someone help me get this kid onto a gurney _. Now_.'

Owen was watching the pool of blood by the boy's head. It had started off about the size of a penny. Now, it was more like a football.

'Amelia –'

' _NOW_ Dr. Hunt.'

Cradling the skull, they gently lifted the boy onto a bed. Nurses swarmed around them, attaching monitors and hanging fluids. Owen didn't have to look at the machines to know that his stats were rapidly falling.

'Amelia –'

'No. No, Owen. I know what you're going to say. But you see this kid? He managed to get ten of his classmates to safety out onto the roof of the school, only to collapse right in front of me because _I_ hadn't thought to examine him. I am _not_ letting him slip away from me. I am _not_ giving up.'

Owen looked at her. Her eyes, brimming with a burning anger at the workings of the world, were such a dark blue that they almost looked black. In fact, it was hard to tell where pupil ended and iris began. She had never looked more dangerous. She had never looked more beautiful.

He nodded, 'Okay.'

She gave a stiff dip of the head in return, before grabbing the gurney and running for the elevator.

It was at moments like this that Owen really struggled with the sets of protocols that he had to follow as a doctor. When you wanted to be with the ones you loved, but had to be with the ones who needed you. It was your _duty_ to be with the ones who needed you.

Throwing a last look at the elevator, he squared his shoulders and spun round to greet the next gurney.

 _He had been sitting in his car at the end of the street for four hours. She still hadn't come home. He didn't like it when he went a whole 24 hours without seeing her - even just a glimpse of her would have been enough. A bounce of her hair, or a flash of those eyes. Something. He scraped his thumbnail against the side of the steering wheel, over and over, the repetitive action providing momentary relief. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, readjusted his position. There was nothing to do but wait._

 _Hope you guys like the new chapter! The drama of it all was pretty exhilarating to write, I can tell you that ;) More to follow with things potentially taking a darker tone for Owen and Amelia…who knows…_

 _As ever, I would love to read your reviews! They make me smile :)_


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Edwards was already in place when Amelia stepped into the OR.

'Where we at?' she demanded, as she was gloved by a scrub nurse.

'We managed to get the bleeding under control, but the bullet's lodged in there somewhere deep. His pressure's all over the place and his cardiac rhythm is really unstable. Oh, and forensics just got back to us a few minutes ago. The type of bullet that's been used in the shootings? It's the kind that explodes on impact. Honestly, it's a miracle he's survived this long, what with the unexploded bomb he's carrying about.'

'They couldn't have made it any easier for us,' Amelia replied bitterly, coming to stand next to Edwards. She inhaled deeply, observing the small bloody hole that lay exposed in front of her. It was going to take everything she had to pull this off. She squared her shoulders.

'Scalpel,' she ordered, holding out her hand

'Oh my god, there it is,' Edwards whispered, as a piece of dark steel glinted from within the insides of the skull.

'There it is,' Amelia repeated, slowly drawing her hands away.

'You did it. You actually found it!'

'This thing is far from over Edwards.' Amelia replied quietly, motioning at her resident to suction the excess blood, 'The hardest part is still to come. Now we gotta get the damn thing out.'

'What are you going to do?'

The door of the OR suddenly slid open, and Owen appeared in the room, holding a scrub mask to his face.

'How's it going in here?'

When Amelia didn't take her eyes off the boy's exposed skull, Edwards piped up, 'Dr. Shepherd's found the bullet. She's just trying to work out the best way to extract it.'

'Okay. Does she know how she's going to do it?' Owen asked.

'Uhm –'

'No!' Amelia suddenly snapped, causing the two doctors and most of the OR team to jump, 'No, I don't know Dr. Hunt. But it sure as hell doesn't help having _you_ here drilling me about it.'

There was a moment's pause, before Owen replied, 'Right, I'll just head –'

The alarm of the heart monitor started to sound.

'Someone tell me what's happening,' Amelia called, her eyes still trained on the bullet.

'We're losing him,' Edwards replied, 'he's going into asystole and his stats are taking a nosedive.'

'Get the paddles!' Amelia shouted, rushing to the child's side. But Owen was already there, starting compressions on the boy's chest. His gaze met hers, and she could see her own worry mirrored in his eyes.

'Charge to 200,' Edwards called, reaching forwards with the paddles. All hands retracted from the body. 'Clear!'

The small frame jerked as the jolt hit him. The monitor continued to flatline.

'Again. Charge to 300,' Amelia demanded, desperately looking for some level of cardiac rhythm. She couldn't lose him now. Not after all he had been through.

'Clear!' Again, the body jerked. All Amelia could hear was her own pulse thumping in her ears, a painful contrast to the stilled heart that lay before her.

'We've got bleeding up here,' a scrub nurse reported, her gloves stained with red as she quickly tried to pack the boy's wound.

'Again,' Amelia shouted, 'hit him with 300 _again_.'

'Amelia. He's not coming back,' Owen was looking at her sadly, his hands unmoving on the child's chest.

'No,' she angrily pushed away his fingers, and resumed compressions herself. _Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive, ah, ha, ha, ha…_

'I just need his heart to start so I can get the bullet out. That's all I need.'

'Dr. Shepherd,' Owen spoke louder this time, his hand moving to grasp one of hers, 'There was nothing more you could do. He was gone before you even got him in here. It's time to call it.'

Her compressions started to slow. She looked at Owen, breathing deeply. _He couldn't be right. He shouldn't be right. It wasn't fair._

He squeezed her hand gently.

'Time of death,' she whispered, her eyes fixed on the trauma surgeon, '5:24pm.'

Much later, after scouring most of the hospital, Owen finally found her in CT. Hunched over the monitors, she was staring at the brain scans dashed across the screens; the before and after. Owen knew as surgeons they all did it. Sat there for hours, agonizing over every second of the surgery, trying to fix on a tangible reason for an unsuccessful outcome. It was destructive.

'Amelia –'

'Not now Owen,' she cut him off, her voice hard and blunt.

'You did everything. Everything that should have been done. You were a flawless surgeon in there today.'

'No. No I wasn't,' she whispered, a slight tremor permeating her speech. God, he hated it when she was hurting.

He watched her flick from one scan to the next, back and forth, over and over, again and again. Moving slowly, he came to stand behind her, before reaching forwards and placing his hand gently over the cold one that grasped the mouse. The herbal scent of her hair filled him. He had spent a long time without that smell, the smell that used to cling to his bed sheets. He missed it.

'No!' She jerked away suddenly, springing from the seat. Owen watched her pace the small space, her nails digging into her palms, her eyes shifting, unable to focus. She wouldn't allow her body to stand still for even a moment. He had to be the one to help her do it.

He reached out for her as she passed him, grasping her shoulders between his hands; forcing her to stop. She struggled a little at first, but as much as she tried, her petite frame was no match for Owen's army build.

Without even thinking about it, he pulled her towards him.

'Stop it, stop it Owen,' she protested desperately, her voice trembling as she pushed her fists against his chest. He could feel her panicking. Her body was tense, her mind taught. But he wouldn't let go.

With a sudden breath, she went limp. Her head fell against his sternum as her hands grasped at his shirt, clinging on to the little bundles of fabric. She started to shake.

Slowly, Owen brought his hand up to cradle the back of her head. He ran his fingers through her curls, over and over, while resting his cheek against the top of her hair. His mind flashed back to that day when she had broken down in front of him, her eyes swimming with the true realisation of Derek's death. He had carried out this exact same gesture then. He knew that having someone hold her was the only thing that could actually ground her, no matter how much she might try to fight against it.

'Sssssh, sssssh,' Owen murmured against her hair, his other hand snaking around her waist to pull her closer. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, holding her in his arms like this. The place that she was meant to be.

A minute later, and her sobs had subsided. The shaking had stopped. Exhaling deeply, she pulled her head back from his chest, looking up at him almost shyly. Tears glistened on her cheeks, her eyes an iridescent blue.

Very carefully, without uttering a word, he brushed away the wetness with his thumb.

It may have been inappropriate timing, but he couldn't help but marvel at the softness of her skin. It got him every time. All those months ago when she had spent her time in bed next to him, curled up against his chest as she slept, there had been nights when she had suffered from terrible nightmares. For a stranger looking at her, you wouldn't have guessed it. She seemed so collected, so together. Amelia Shepherd, the kick-ass head of neurosurgery. It was only Owen who saw the shadows that haunted her. Sometimes he would wake up to find her whimpering beside him, crying out the name of the boyfriend that had left her, or the baby she had lost. Once, she had even called for Owen, begging him over and over to stay, before uttering those three little words; words that she still didn't know she had said. I love you.

During those nights, as her whole frame shook, he used to skim the outline of her cheekbones with his fingertips, before softly kissing the path that he had traced. It calmed her, swept away the darkness. Owen had thought he would never love again after Christina. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Her face was just inches from his, so close that he could taste her breath on his tongue.

'Amelia –' he started to whisper, before a finger on his lips cut him off. Her eyes were fixed on his. The way she was looking at him…it was the way she used to look when they were about to kiss.

He bent his head forwards, their noses brushing against each other.

She closed her eyes.

A sudden bang as the door swung open shattered the moment, and the two surgeons jumped apart.

'Oh god,' Meredith stumbled, hovering uncertainly by the door, 'I…I'm sorry, I didn't…I mean, I thought no one else was…I was just looking for you Dr. Hunt.'

An awkward silence descended.

Owen cleared his throat, trying to mask the hurt he felt at having come so close, only for it to be snatched away. But before he could say anything, Amelia was already speaking.

'Don't worry Meredith. I was just about to go actually – Dr. Hunt just…just needed my advice on a consult. I'll leave you to it.'

Avoiding Owen's gaze, she grabbed her lab coat from the back of the chair and disappeared from the room.

'I'm sorry,' Meredith blurted out, 'I didn't realise –'

'It was nothing Dr. Grey,' Owen interrupted harshly. He paused to take a breath, throwing a quick glance at the open door, before continuing in a softer tone, 'What is it that you wanted me for?'

Meredith paused a moment, watching him carefully. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but simultaneously, was unsure as to whether it was the best idea.

'These are the scans from one of the kids involved in the shooting,' she finally replied, pulling out a sheet from the envelope she was carrying, 'I think you might want to take a look.'

Trying to push any thoughts of Amelia to the back of his mind, Owen held the scan up to the light.

 _So whatddya guys think? Am I doing it right with the Omelia? You allllllmost got a kiss there, but I thought I wouldn't make it that easy just yet hehe ;) Please please review, as I would love to hear from you guys! And stay tuned as the drama really unfolds…_


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

The words bounced around Amelia's head as she rounded up her shift, making a quick check of her post-ops and the kids still battling on in the ICU.

 _Could this day really get any worse._

As she examined stiches, and uttered the same words of reassurance to frantic parents, she was taken back to the very start of her surgical internship. One of the first things Amelia's resident had told her was that when you lost a patient, when a life slipped away right in front of you, the thing to do was focus on those who had been saved. The bodies that were still warm and breathing. But that simply seemed irrelevant now. All Amelia could see was the little boy, his skin so pale that you could map the contours of his veins across its surface. She watched a young mother climb up onto her daughter's bed, half crying, half laughing, as the child's eyes flickered open. The boy's mother would never have that. Taking him to soccer games, learning to drive, graduation. All gone in an instant.

Directing Edwards towards a couple more beds, Amelia paused, pressing her fingers to her temples. She had been up for nearly 36 hours now, and had been avoiding Owen ever since the incident in the CT room.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

She had really let her emotions run riot in there; there amongst all the brain scans and the humming of the monitors. And what good had it done her? Now she was just confused. So confused. Because the problem was, no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she _wanted_ Owen. She had fallen for him. Fallen for him hard. He had re-jigged her neurological pathways, and now all she could see was him. He was _in_ her.

But then, just a few months back, she had told him that she wasn't interested in a relationship. That it wasn't a good idea. _She_ had been the one to push him away. It wasn't fair to treat him like this. Hot and cold. On and off. He deserved better. She wasn't good for him. She ached, physically ached, to be with him, but she would ruin him. So they had agreed to just be friends, and he had never given her any indication of wanting more. And yet…hadn't he been leaning in for that kiss too? Or was she just imagining things?

'Uggghh,' Amelia groaned, slamming her patient files onto the desk of the nurses' station before proceeding to slump on top of them.

'Long day?' Meredith's soft voice filtered through to her left. She could make out her sister-in-law's trainers below her, the red graffiti etched across the surface a painful reminder of the day's trauma.

'Uggghh,' Amelia groaned again, her face still buried amongst sheets of paper.

'Sometimes it helps to talk it through,' Meredith suggested, nudging Amelia with her hip, 'Or, you know, if that fails, there's always tequila.'

Amelia raised her head, smiling half-heartedly at the general surgeon, 'You do realise that you're suggesting this to the girl with a drug _and_ drinks problem? Seriously, don't tempt me Mer.'

' _Former_ drug and drinks problem,' Meredith grinned back, before cocking her head to one side and observing Amelia.

'So. You gonna tell me what's happening with you and Owen? Because to be honest, there might as well be _one_ of us that's getting some.'

'Who's getting some?' Pierce's voice suddenly piped up out of nowhere, reaching between them to grab a file.

'You,' Meredith and Amelia both replied sarcastically, before looking at each other and starting to giggle.

'Oh that's riiiiight,' Pierce mused, pausing to stare lazily down the corridor, 'the joys of sex...'

A moment passed before she shook her head and glanced back at the two girls, 'Which actually reminds me, I have an appointment to get to.'

'You are unbelievable!' Meredith laughed, aiming a kick at her sister who danced nimbly out of reach.

'You don't say no to the booty-call baby,' Maggie whispered, before striding off to the nearest on-call room.

'Well, at least she's enjoying herself,' Amelia remarked, watching Maggie's dark hair disappear round the corner.

Meredith looked back at her, 'And what about you?'

Amelia sighed, running her fingers along the surface of the desk. Even if she knew what to say, she didn't think she could. She was all too aware of the bustling of the nurse staff around them, the many eyes and ears ready to spread any gossip they picked up.

'It's just…I mean...it's just been a really crappy day.'

'I heard about your kid,' Meredith replied sympathetically, 'that must have been tough.'

Amelia nodded wordlessly.

'But what about you and Owen? Are you guys making another go of things?'

'No…I mean…I don't…it's just…' she broke off, sighing.

Meredith watched her falter, before reaching over and squeezing her forearm.

'Amelia. You're very good at overthinking things – at _overcomplicating_ stuff - when you don't want to face something. When you're scared. I've always thought that. Ever since I first met you. So you know what? You just have to do what you _feel_.'

'But I don't know what I feel!'

Meredith looked at her, really looked at her.

'I think you do.'

And with that the general surgeon picked up her files, and walked off down the hall.

 _Great._

Amelia pushed the elevator button impatiently, letting out a sigh. She just couldn't catch a break. After the day she'd had, you'd think the universe would actually have the decency to make things a little easier for her. But of course, Amelia never got lucky like that. So here she was, hanging around, endlessly waiting for the damn elevator to arrive.

After what felt like an age, the self-righteous ding of the machine sounded, and the surgeon was finally inside. She leaned against the back of the elevator as the doors began to close, absolutely exhausted. Every fibre of her being felt heavy, numbed. She hung her head, her curls falling in disarray over her shoulders, trying to focus on her breathing. Her cravings were back. She could feel them swelling inside of her, playing off of the unsteadiness and pain. As usual, it was when she was at her most vulnerable that she hungered for oxy, for just a sweet taste of crack. And here she was working in a hospital, filled with every kind of drug that you could possibly imagine.

The last time she had felt like this had been after Derek's death, when she'd carried around that little pouch of white powder for days, trying to decide whether or not to take it. Owen had been the one to save her from that. The one who had put her back together.

She shouldn't think about him. Thinking about him hurt. She just needed to get home. But as the elevator door was about to close, a hand suddenly pushed its way through the shrinking gap.

 _Great_. _A last minute passenger._ She'd hoped she would have been able to ride down alone; just her own thoughts for company. No such luck. Forcing herself to straighten up, she tried to make herself appear slightly more acceptable. Whatever that meant.

It was then that she came face to face with Owen Hunt.

'Amelia,' he murmured, his eyes softening.

She felt herself starting to panic. Nearly 2 years of working together and she couldn't for the life of her think of what to say. Memories flashed uncontrollably before her eyes. _The warmth of his body as he pulled her close, his hand sliding its way up her hip as their lips touched in the on-call room, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as they slept side by side in the safety of his trailer…_

All she could manage was a quiet 'Owen.'

For a moment, she seriously considered whether it would be worth legging it for the stairs. But by the time the thought had crossed her mind, Owen had already walked inside and pressed the button for the lobby.

As the doors closed and they started their descent, Amelia struggled with the oppressive silence that surrounded them. It was as if the air was buzzing with what was unspoken. She felt Owen move somewhere behind her, and she gave an involuntary shiver as his breath suddenly brushed against the back of her neck. A moment later, and his hand reached out to push the emergency stop button.

They ground to a halt.

 _Hey lovely people – so sorry it's taken me so long to upload! I was away skiing for the week, and was just so wiped by the evenings that I could barely form words, let alone write anything haha. But I hope this chapter makes up for it :)_

 _Now, I know there's not much direct Omelia going on here, but I thought to build things up a bit for the elevator episode that's coming up…haven't quite decided which way I'm gonna sway yet, so you'll have to just hang on and see!_

 _As ever, please please review as I genuinely love hearing what you guys think – it's awesome knowing how much you are enjoying it. Love to you all xx_


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

'You've been avoiding me.' A low voice cut through the silence. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A fact.

Amelia shifted uncomfortably, aware of the truth that lay behind Owen's words. This confrontation was exactly what she had been trying to run from, yet here she was, _literally_ trapped in an elevator with him. Nowhere to hide. It was ironic really, when you thought about it. Her mouth felt dry, and she seemed to have lost the ability to form any kind of coherent sentence. Keeping her eyes fixed on the numbers above, she watched the elevator slowly count down the floors.

'C'mon Amelia, you won't even look at me. So, you know, help me out here. Are you upset? Angry? Confused?'

'That one!' she impulsively burst out, before taking a couple of deep breaths to try and steady herself, 'If…if I had to pick one.'

'Okay, well, then let's talk about it so we can –'

'I can't talk about it!' Amelia spun round, her elbow narrowly missing Owen's stomach. She hadn't realised quite how close he had been standing.

'Why not?' Owen asked softly, his warm breath playing with the loose strands of her hair. 'Don't you want to say anything about what…what happened?'

'Nothing happened.' Amelia replied firmly, almost as much to convince herself as to convince Owen. There was a chance that she could get through this as long as she kept her emotions in check, and it was for this very reason that she refused to meet his gaze. She knew that as soon as she was caught in those blue eyes, it would only make things a hundred times harder.

But Owen seemed to have other ideas. Raising his hand, he placed one finger underneath her chin, and gently tilted her head higher, so that she was forced to look at him.

'Amelia…' Owen smiled sadly, his eyes searching hers, blue on blue, 'we nearly kissed.'

The neurosurgeon tried to voice a denial, but naturally, it came to nothing. It was just so damn hard to concentrate when Owen was around. Sure, she was usually this strong-willed, self-sufficient individual, but his mere presence seemed to reduce her to a flushed, stammering teenager. He was just…very hard to ignore.

'What are you thinking?' he asked, watching a slight crease appear between her eyebrows.

Amelia dropped her gaze to the floor before timidly looking up at him.

'I'm thinking…that I don't remember what our last kiss was. Where we were, what we said. I mean, obviously, at the time I didn't know that it was gonna be the last one. But still. I guess…I guess I thought I would remember.'

 _That first kiss, when she had been so shy and awkward with her bottle of sparkling water, yet Owen had turned it all around with a simple 'I'm going to kiss you now.' That day they had helped save little Ruby's mom, and a hug just wasn't enough. Together in the on-call room, Owen kissing her with a passion that left her dizzy…_

'It was just before you went in on your surgery with Callie,' Owen's quiet voice suddenly broke through her thoughts, 'on that girl with the spinal misalignment who wanted nothing more than to play golf.'

He raised his gaze over her head, and Amelia watched his face, remembering.

'You'd lost your scrub cap, and I came into the attending's lounge to find you tornado-ing your way through it, chucking lab coats and chip packets over your shoulder, ranting away. I made a comment, but you were so worked up that you didn't seem to be listening to a word I said. So, I walked over to you and grabbed you by the shoulders. You were angry, you tried to push me away, but not before I'd pulled out the scrub cap from under one of the pillows on the couch. You looked at me, smiled this ridiculously ecstatic smile. Then you threw your arms around my neck and kissed me. It was tender, simple, like we would have hundreds more. And then you left for surgery.'

There was a moment's silence as she continued to watch Owen stare off into the distance.

'You remember all that?'

He looked back at her.

'Yup.'

Amelia felt herself flushing. There had never – not ever - been a guy who had made her feel like this just by telling her a story. It was then that her own thoughts began to wander. Would it really be so bad to go back to what they had? Nights at his trailer, curled up against him, his hands intertwined with hers…her days off spent living in one of his sweaters…her head on his chest, his fingers running through her hair, as they read in companionable silence…

But then, like a cloud dulling the light, Amelia saw everyone she had ever hurt. Owen couldn't be one of them. She knew what she had to do.

'I'm sorry Owen.' she murmured, drawing her chin from his hand and taking a step back, 'I'm sorry if you've been feeling like this. Like… something could happen between us. But it just won't. It was a mistake last time, and it would be a mistake again. We're a plane crash, you and I, remember?'

She made the reference in a feeble effort to try and lighten the mood, but it had little effect. Owen's eyes dimmed, and Amelia found herself despising her words, despising what she was doing to him. But better that he hurt a little now, than for her to tear him apart further down the line. She needed to remember that.

'So you're telling me,' Owen's voice was hard, cold, 'you're telling me that you feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.'

Amelia swallowed hard. She nodded wordlessly. Owen studied her expression for a moment, before dropping his gaze to the floor. A brief silence descended.

'And when I do this?'

Before Amelia could work out what was happening, his lips were on hers. And it was in that single instant that everything seemed to melt away. Without hesitation, she returned the kiss, her tongue brushing shyly against his, remembering, retracing. A second later, and his hands had found their way to her cheeks as hers slid through his hair. Their bodies were pressed so close that she could feel his heart beating alongside her own. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Loved. She felt home.

All too soon for Amelia, the moment reached its end. Owen tenderly touched his lips to hers, sweet and simple, his thumb tracing across her cheekbone, before planting a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose and pulling away. It was all Amelia could do to stop herself from physically tugging him back.

'You're still telling me that you feel nothing?' he asked again, his voice softer, feverish. They were both breathing hard.

All Amelia could hear was the blood racing in her ears. All she could see was Owen. But all she could say was 'I can't.'

It was torturous watching Owen's expression, watching the hope fade from his eyes. He inhaled deeply, before releasing his hold on her hands and moving away.

'I'm sorry if I hurt –' Amelia tried to apologise, but Owen cut her off with a shake of his head.

'I'm done, Amelia. I'm done trying. I can't do this anymore.'

The ding of the elevator sounded as they reached the lobby floor. She nodded slowly at the other surgeon and turned, clasping her hands in front of her. They felt unnaturally cold now that Owen's warmth had disappeared. Swallowing hard, she bit the inside of her lip, trying to stop the threatening tears.

 _Better that he hurt a little now, than to tear him apart further down the line._

The doors finally opened, and Owen slipped past her without a glance. Amelia stood for a second, watching him head out the exit, never looking back. A single tear escaped, tracing its way down her cheek. But a moment later it was gone. Taking a breath, the surgeon tightly drew her coat around her and stepped off the elevator. Walking away from what could have been.

 _Phew! Not gonna lie, got all level emotional writing this chapter – even found myself getting angry at ME for them not getting together, and then being like 'you know you're the one making this happen…'! Weird huh? But they were soooooo close…_

 _So. There you go. Looks like things aren't gonna work out anytime soon for Owen and Amelia. And I know, I know, I bet some of you guys are hating me right about now, but trust me when I tell you I've got some major things to come, so you're just gonna have to hang on for the ride ;)_

 _Thank you to everyone who has liked and reviewed so far - please please please keep doing the same, as hearing what you guys think makes my day! You've all been super awesome and hopefully should be able to update soon! Really should be revising for exams, but you know, meh. xx_


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

'Owen?'

The trauma surgeon started slightly as Kepner's voice cut through the silence of the attendings' lounge. Completely lost in thought, he couldn't even remember her walking into the room. God know how long she had been standing there.

'Hm?'

'I just asked whether you were coming tonight?'

Owen frowned, 'Tonight…?'

'Yeah, you know…the party we planned at Joe's for Meredith getting chief of general?'

Owen paused momentarily, trying to piece together Kepner's words. _What was she going on about? A party? Meredith's party? There was no -_

He took a sudden breath. _Crap. The party. How the hell could he have forgotten?_

'Right, yeah, of course,' Owen replied, quickly shaking his head. He hadn't been so good at remembering stuff this past week.

April was watching him carefully.

'You okay?' she asked, her eyes searching his.

'Sure,' he attempted a smile, 'look, you go ahead. I've still got to change, and I don't want to hold you up or anything.'

'Owen, I don't mind waiting – '

'Honestly April,' he interrupted, 'it's fine. No doubt you've got to round up Jackson as well, so there's no point hanging around with me.'

April opened her mouth as if to protest, but then seemed to think the better of it when she saw Owen's expression. She gave a reluctant nod, before reaching forward to squeeze his shoulder. Then she picked up her jacket, and was gone.

Silence descended once again, and Owen couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Honestly, a party was the last thing he felt like going to right now. But hell, maybe a drink would do him good. It was a distraction, if nothing else.

He and Amelia hadn't spoken a word to one another, let alone seen each other, since the incident in the elevator two weeks ago - no easy feat when you were both doctors working in the same hospital. Sure, at some point, there was bound to be a case when trauma and neuro were going to have to work alongside each other. But until that day Owen was determined to avoid her, however childish that may seem. A professional relationship, that's all it would ever be. Just like Amelia wanted.

The door to the lounge suddenly opened, interrupting his thoughts, and Callie's face popped through the opening.

'Owen? You coming?' She quizzed, giving her best shot at an innocent smile. He couldn't help but chuckle. Callie's poker face had never been great. Clearly, April had sent her to check up on him.

'Sure,' Owen replied, 'I'll be over in 5.'

As the door closed behind the ortho surgeon, he walked over to his locker and started to change.

'I'll have another one Joe,' Owen remarked, finishing off the dregs of his fourth bottle, before raising it to the bartender. A moment later, and another was in front of him, small droplets of condensation clinging delicately to the glass. He'd forgotten how easy it was to let the alcohol smooth out the rough edges, to blur the periphery just enough that your darker thoughts were numbed.

 _Definitely a good call coming to the party._

'Long day?' A female voice suddenly commented.

Owen paused mid-sip and turned. A slim, blonde woman was perched on the stool next to him, watching him curiously. As Owen met her gaze, she grinned. It was an infectious grin, dimples marking her cheeks, and he couldn't help but smile in return. The dark green of her sweater mirrored a pair of unusual emerald eyes. Hell, even the drink she was cradling between her hands was green.

'Something like that,' Owen chuckled, 'You…errr…You got a thing for green?'

'Something like that,' the woman quipped in response, her eyes narrowing mischievously as she took a nonchalant sip. Owen was almost surprised as he found himself laughing.

She held out a hand, 'Mia. Mia Blake.'

'Owen. Owen Hunt.'

'So,' she continued, swivelling on her stool so that she was now facing him, 'what is it that you do, Owen Hunt?

'I – '

'No wait!' she suddenly exclaimed, throwing up a hand, 'I wanna guess…'

She paused, biting her lip, and ran her eyes over him. It was sort of…well, exhilarating. A feeling that Owen hadn't experienced in a long time.

'Doctor.' She promptly announced.

The trauma surgeon barely managed to stop himself choking on his beer.

'You did not just get that in one!' he protested.

She let out a casual sigh, running her palm across the bar top, 'Yeah, well, I'm actually pretty awesome like that.'

She caught his eye and grinned.

'So Dr. Hunt, you gonna buy me a drink or what?'

A moment later, and they were both clutching fresh drinks. They chatted for a while about nothing in particular, but Owen was grateful for the opportunity to momentarily step away from the medical world. To talk to someone who really didn't know him at all. With the alcohol firmly pulsing its way through his system, the surgeon found himself enjoying Mia's company. She was sharp, fresh, just the right level of sarcastic. As their conversation came to a natural pause in between stories, she suddenly beckoned him closer.

'So, I have a confession.' she whispered, 'There's a _slight_ possibility that I might have heard you come in here with the Seattle Grace squad over there. Might not have just gone for a stab in the dark when I guessed you were a doctor.'

'Ahh, you were spying on me,' Owen nodded, 'makes total sense now.'

She snorted, 'Don't flatter yourself. I was merely…browsing.'

'Browsing?'

'You know, seeing if anything caught my eye.' She took a delicate sip from her glass, refusing to meet Owen's gaze.

'Right, I see…And did it?'

She spun round and looked over at his colleagues, frowning in concentration.

'Well, there's that tall, dark, rugged, man, would you look at those cheekbones –'

'Jackson. Married.' Owen interrupted.

She sighed, 'Shame. But then you've also got the guy by the dartboard. Now, _he_ looks like he knows how to handle a woman -'

'Alex. Long-term girlfriend.' Owen remarked.

She sighed again.

'Its sad really, not leaving anyone for the rest of us. But you know, I _did_ notice this other guy – tall, muscular, gentle eyes, kinda sad but, like, in a super hot way…' She trailed off, and glanced at Owen, smiling.

'Well,' Owen coughed, feeling slightly awkward, 'he doesn't sound so bad.' Mia laughed then, bright and clear, and placed a hand on his forearm. It was then that the trauma surgeon spotted Amelia.

She was standing by the front door, having just walked in, and Owen felt his chest tighten automatically. God, how was it that she always looked stunning. Her sleeveless black top accentuated her toned arms, and her dark skinny jeans clung to her petite frame. Her hair was loose, tumbling in gentle waves to her shoulders, and the brush of red lipstick added an elegant touch of colour. As Owen watched, she suddenly smiled, and walked over towards Meredith and Maggie. It was then that she saw him.

From across the room, it was hard to read her exact expression. But she was close enough for Owen to see her gaze shift from his eyes to his arm. Mia's hand still lay there. She looked away abruptly.

Owen's initial reaction was embarrassment, embarrassment about what she'd think seeing them together. But then he caught himself. This was ridiculous. _Amelia_ had been the one who made it perfectly clear that she didn't want any kind of relationship. He had put himself out there, and it was _Amelia_ who had turned him down. He shouldn't have to feel embarrassed or guilty; he shouldn't have to worry about her feelings. He could do what he wanted.

'You okay?' Mia's soft voice cut through his thoughts, 'You kind of spaced out for a second there...'

Owen turned to her abruptly, his vision slightly hazy from the alcohol, 'You wanna get out of here?'

Instead of giving him an answer, Mia simply pursed her lips, a thoughtful expression on her face. Owen suddenly froze. _Crap_. Maybe he'd been reading the signs all wrong. Maybe she literally didn't have any interest in him, and he'd been making this all up in his head. Maybe -

But a second later, and she reached forwards, placing a hand on his knee.

'You know, I thought you'd never ask.'

Flashing a grin, she swung her jacket over her shoulder and sauntered off towards the door. Owen quickly knocked back the rest of his beer and grabbed his own coat. Every fibre of his being was acutely aware of Amelia's presence at the other corner of the bar, but he refused to allow himself a glance in her direction.

'You off Hunt?' Jackson called, handing April a drink, 'C'mon, I'm just about to buy the next round!'

Owen laughed, 'Thanks, but I'm kind of tired. You know, long day and all. Besides, I've got a bunch of early surgeries tomorrow.'

'Uh-huh,' Jackson replied slowly, peering over his colleague's shoulder, 'So, who's the blonde?'

April jabbed her husband firmly in the ribs.

'Ow!' He yelped, before coughing awkwardly, 'I mean, yeah sure, no worries, we'll see you tomorrow.'

Owen nodded, and, murmuring his goodbyes, he headed towards the exit, leaving April's furious whisperings behind him. Mia was leaning casually against the doorframe.

'Thought you'd changed your mind,' she chuckled, her green eyes dark in the dim light.

For a split second, Owen hesitated. He really had no idea what was going to happen if he went with her. But maybe it was time that he just…let things happen. He needed to learn to leave Amelia behind, and this definitely seemed like the first step in doing that.

'Sorry to disappoint,' Owen shrugged. Mia gave a sarcastic sigh and grinned. Opening the door for her, they walked out into the cold Seattle air.

 _And there you go! So, if you hadn't guessed, Owen's kinda mad. Mad at Amelia, mad at his own feelings for Amelia…wonder what kind of distraction this Mia character will prove to be?_

 _Next chapter we're gonna be seeing how Amelia's been dealing, along with the potential reappearance of a certain individual…Oh, and dark and twisty things to come._

 _Thank you so much for all the reviews – a special thanks to Robin who made me laugh with the comment about Amelia being_ _susceptible to Owen's form of persuasion ;) I'd love to hear from more of you, so please please send me your thoughts!_

 _Back to uni for me tomorrow - will try and update soonish but I'm about to be battered with the onslaught that is exam season. Cry. At least this is keeping me sane xx_


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